Jotaro Would Have Made a Good Magical Girl
by widefacebro
Summary: Everyone's favorite eco-friendly JoJo has a little chat with a Puella Magi who has forgotten an important, and in this case potentially life saving, lesson.


It is 1:27 AM at a Mitakihara train station. A young girl in a middle school uniform exits the last train. She walks forward at a painful lentissimo. Her legs churn like rusty valve gears, the bolts ready to snap after each pounding of heel on concrete. She does not attempt to even look up from her droopy eyelids and past the blue veil as her shoes sweep dust to a row of five empty bench seats. She lets her body fall on a seat. Her mouth moves. An echo like a small radio in an empty cardboard box can be heard.

"What am I doing... I'm such an idiot..." The air is cold and indifferent and refuses to carry her words very far. "But I can be different… I can protect them-"

"Ugh." A churlish exhale from behind the bench cuts the girl's droning. "Give me a break..."

A large and broad figure, like a door with a head, comes out from a shadow behind the bench. His burning cigarette casts a soft glow on the thick hand that pinches the bill of his torn hat.

"Look," he begins with a voice too deep to be interrupted, "I don't care why some little kid is out so late, but if you're gonna cry all night, go take it somewhere else. I like this spot."

Her head slowly cranes up at the man's face. The smoke from his cigarette blocks the image of his face. A long ash falls off the end of the stub.

"Are you… Are you also like the men on the train?" Her mouth twists. "If awful people like you exist in the world, then I have to…" she rises and readies herself to attack, but something shoves her back onto the bench seat.

"Oi!" The man cuts in and points a thick finger, "I don't know what the hell you're going on about all the sudden, but don't start talking like you know me!"

The girl says nothing. She turns her scowl to the ground.

"You look like shit," he adds. His fingers dwarf the white stick he holds out to her. "Have a cigarette."

She lets her scowl disappear; not so much out of acceptance, but just pure fatigue. Her hands slowly drift up and she takes the cigarette. She puts it between her lips. She looks up at the man for a second, but the cigarette is already lit. She inhales a little and lets the smoke swirl around her mouth and down into her lungs. It makes her feel even more cold and empty. Some of the surplus smoke travels up into the back of her throat and she coughs.

The man scoffs. "Is this your first cigarette?"

"Yes…" She tries to bark. "My friends and I… We don't do stuff like this…"

Maybe the girl was mistaken through her fatigue, but as she looked up at his expressionless face, she noticed the man's cigarette was now just as long as hers. She was certain that his hands had never even left his pockets.

The man doesn't say anything for a while. He watches the girl take little sips at her cigarette. "So," he began again. "It's one AM and you're hanging out at the train station alone? Your friends must suck." He exhales a little chuckle at his own joke.

Her face scrunches up again and she stares into the ground. "You don't know my friends! Whether they like it or not, I have to protect them! Don't talk about them like that!"

The man takes a long drag on his cigarette before he begins. "'Whether they like it or not?' What the hell does that mean?" He blows the smoke above her boiling expression and smiles. "I doubt you could protect anyone, let alone try to choose what's best for others."

"You're wrong!" she musters up all the energy she can to shout, "I'm the only one who can fight for them! I'm forcing myself to go through all this pain for them, and you're just like them! What position are they in to tell me what to do when I'm the only who can protect them? You don't get it either!"

"You don't think other people have problems, too? What makes you think you're the only one who suffers? Are you just going to ignore what your friends have to say?" He exhales another fog of smoke and crushes the cigarette between his fingers. "I can't stand selfish people like you."

The girl stands up and throws her cigarette on the ground. It explodes into a shower of orange sparks. "Of course I'm thinking about my friends! I'm trying to protect them, but they just keep getting in my way!"

The man looks at her long and hard. "Idiot." He picks up her cigarette and puts it in his pocket. "What's the point of having friends if you can't even trust them?" The man pulls the bill of his hat down over his face and mutters something under his breath as he walks away.

The girl sits back down. Some minutes later, a girl with long red hair comes and casually sits at one of the seats next to her.


End file.
